


Towel Schmowel

by trillingstar



Series: Oz Drabble Trees [15]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Language, Gen, Injury Recovery, M/M, Painkillers, Season/Series 02, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/pseuds/trillingstar
Summary: Ryan never thought he'd choose Em City over the comfort and safety of a private bed in Gloria's infirmary, but he can't let whispered rumors tarnish his rep.  Every day that he's gone, assholes are runnin' their yaps, trying to drain Ryan's jizz.





	Towel Schmowel

**Author's Note:**

> Set in S2. I don't know why Em City is (nearly) empty either :D  
> 

Ryan never thought he'd choose Em City over the comfort and safety of a private bed in Gloria's infirmary, but he can't let whispered rumors tarnish his rep. Every day that he's gone, assholes are runnin' their yaps, trying to drain Ryan's jizz. 

At least he got some decent meds. It's no Jack plus an 8-ball, but the pain's muted enough that he can stay balanced for long enough to reach the staircase, where he'll grab a few minutes' rest under the guise of checking out what's on TV.

But when he's escorted through the white barred doors, Em City is empty. Mineo peels off, heading up to the control tower. Ryan lets himself fall into the nearest chair. Since no one's around, it'd be a good time to grab a shower, and if he cracks his head open, Mineo won't let him bleed out. Probably.

The showers look empty too, but there's a lone toiletry bag resting on the divider. Ryan creeps closer, hoping for some prime blackmail material, and then freezes when Miguel Alvarez straightens up from behind the low stone wall. 

There's a bottle of shampoo in his hand and he's naked as a jaybird, which belatedly makes sense when Ryan's brain catches up. Alvarez is facing away from Ryan, which somehow makes it okay that Ryan's rooted to the spot and staring.

Ryan O'Reily's no fag, okay? Never was, never will be. 

That doesn't stop his gaze from traveling down Alvarez's toned back and resting on his little butt, where rivulets of water and suds run over the curves and down his legs. He must make a sound because Alvarez turns, spotting him.

"The fuck, O'Reily?" Alvarez demands, his eyes narrowing, but he doesn't move to cover up, and Ryan focuses on how Alvarez's collarbones glisten wetly in the spray. 

"Back the hell up, asshole," Alvarez spits out.

For a terrifying second, Ryan thinks that he's actually stepped forward, hand outstretched to touch, brain overriding his urge to flee. 

Thank god, he's only leaning against the divider, staring. Which is fucked up enough.

There's a split second of hesitation, maybe, or assessment, in Alvarez's eyes, and then Ryan's spluttering through a faceful of warm, soapy water. Alvarez stands poised to chuck the shampoo bottle next, and Ryan finally shakes free of his stupor and gets the fuck out of there.

Mineo's waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. He's biting back a smile, but he lets loose when Ryan shakes his head, water flying everywhere. 

"Forget something?" 

"Huh?" 

Mineo bursts out laughing. "A towel?"

Ryan forces a chuckle. "Yeah, guess so."

Still smiling, Mineo wraps his arm around Ryan's waist before Ryan can move away, and then he's taking practically all of Ryan's weight as they go up the stairs. Ryan can't summon the strength to break Mineo's grip; anyway, no one's around to witness Ryan's temporary weakness.

He's so tired that he thanks Mineo before clambering up to the top bunk and falling face-first into the pillow. Drifting into a doze, Ryan indulges in thoughts of a wet, slippery Alvarez. Smiling, foamy, lathered up Alvarez, leaning closer over the divider, clean-smelling, his breath warm on Ryan's lips.

Ryan rolls over hard enough to slam his shoulder into the cement wall. Hot pain spikes viciously into his daydream, and Ryan pants through it. Fuck, what had the doc given him? These pills make him pliable, _too_ mellow, and that's gonna get him killed… or worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a drabble for the [14th Oz Drabble Tree](https://oz-wishing-well.livejournal.com/89664.html) and then it... grew.  
> 


End file.
